University of Virginia Library

SCENE II.

—A Ball-Room.
Fernando, Isoline, and Others discovered.—A Dance.
Fern.
Surely the lightsomest, most graceful form,
And act of merriment! I'd give the world
To have the mood of him who danced just now.
How he appear'd to poise him in the air,
As he could hang there at his will, by which
Alone he seem'd to come to earth again!
He did not spring, but fly from step to step!
With joints that had not freer play'd, methinks,
Were hinges made of air and theirs were such!
Yet could they plant themselves, I warrant me,
To meet a shock! These spirits are fine things,
Subtle as quicksilver; only they freeze
Sooner than water; one cold breath, and ice!

Iso.
Will you not dance?

Fern.
No.

Iso.
'Tis expected, love,
Upon your nuptial day.

Fern.
I would not dance.

Iso.
No more would I, dear love, to please myself;
But we must help the mirth that's made for us,
Else will it flag, and die. A feast, in this,
Is like a fray, wherein the side is lost
Whose leader is not foremost, cheering it.
For my sake only! I must bear the blame,
Seem you to lack content. They will believe
That you repent you of your bargain, love.
Would you like that?—What had you done a month
Ago, had I refused to dance with you?
How had you look'd as all the world were lost;
Urged me again—again; at every turn
Your voice yet more attuning to the tone
That melts; invoking me in the dear name
Of Pity and whate'er is kin to her.
I had heard, in these things, marriage turns the tables,
And she, that once was woo'd, must turn to woo,
But little dream'd to find it out so soon.

Fern.
Sweet love, we'll dance! Thy fair hand give to me,
And, with it, give thy pardon.

Iso.
There, Fernando.
A set!—A set!—The bride and bridegroom's set!
Partners!—Your fair friends, gentlemen—A set
To try the breath!—Ho, music there!—A strain
Of brilliant figure!

[Procida, in the dress of a cavalier, and masked, appears opposite to Fernando, who at once recognises him.
Mar.
Hear you, sirs? The bride
Commands the dance—Your very newest strain,
So 'tis the choicest, too. We are ready, madam,
So please you take your place.

Iso.
Fernando, what's
The matter?—Who is he you gaze upon?
Do you know him?

Fern.
Don't you recollect him?

Iso.
No—
Not in that mask. Who is he?

Fern.
Never mind!

Iso.
His presence troubles you! Whoe'er he is,
I'll have him straight removed.

Fern.
Not for the world!
He wants me!

Iso.
Let him wait till by-and-by!
I'll speak to him myself and pray him go,
And come some other time.

Fern.
Stay, Isoline!
I would not for a mine thou spokest to him!
I'll speak to him myself!

Iso.
Remember, love,
The dance is waiting.

Fern.
Were't a king that waited,
He must, until I spoke to him that's yonder!
Where can I take him to?—to be alone?

Iso.
The garden.

Fern.
Right! When we have made an end,
By the west door he can depart unseen.

Iso.
O, husband!

Fern.
Let me have my way in this,
For I must! Look, love! Not surer to thy wrist
Is knit thy hand than I am knit to thee!
They cannot sever us, but I must perish!
So now, no let, love, if you value me!

Iso.
Our friends, who look for us—

Fern.
He looks for me!
Women, they say, are at invention quick—
Prove it so now, and never more was need;
And be my sweet apologist.
[Crosses to Procida.
Say naught,
But follow me!

[Procida and Fernando disappear among the Company.
Iso.
Your pardon, friends, I pray you.
One, in some case of keenest urgency,
That needs my husband's presence, takes him hence.
Pray you proceed. I'll play the looker-on
Till he repairs his fault to you and me,
Taking his promised place. The music, there!

A Dance.
Louis.
[Entering hastily.]
Break off the dance!—an enemy is here!
Lady, I have recall'd the name of him
Whose presence struck me so unwelcomely—
A foe, the subtlest and most powerful
That France could find in Sicily! When, lately,
On mission from the king I was sojourning
At the court of Spain, came thither a Sicilian
With charges foul 'gainst France, and praying aid
To second some great blow, he said, the friends
Of Sicily meditated. That same man
Is he whose presence like an apparition
Just now oppress'd me, as I told you—his name
Is John di Procida! I have alarm'd
The guard; apprised your father of his danger,
And search is now on foot, which all must join.

[The Company at once disperse in various directions— occasionally passing to and fro in the back-ground.
Iso.
Ambrose!—Le Clerc! Sirs, you are men of honour.
You know me, too, a woman of that kin.
You'll do my bidding, whatsoe'er it is?

Amb. and Le Clerc.
Yes; by these tokens.

[Kissing the hilts of their swords.
Iso.
Good sirs, follow me!

[They go out.